


After-Brawl Activities

by bpdofficial



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content, Vaginal Fingering, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:25:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7051333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bpdofficial/pseuds/bpdofficial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henrietta has the worst timing sometimes, but Hancock doesn't complain.</p><p>i honestly just wanted to write porn</p>
            </blockquote>





	After-Brawl Activities

Hancock rolled the cigarette between his lips, watching Henrietta and Daisy chat up a storm across from him at the table. They’d decided to take a much-needed break as they made their way back to the Castle for Henrietta to update Garvey, and he’d offered her drinks, among other promises. She looked relatively calm, something that was rare to come by in the environment, and it put him at ease. It allowed him to pay attention to her in different ways.

Right now, she had a smudge of dirt on her cheek. Her eyeliner had faded. Her hair was getting a little long again, and she’d start mentioning getting it trimmed soon. Her eyes crinkled at the edges every time Daisy said something particularly interesting or funny. The dim light of the bar made her green eyes shine.

Quietly, discreetly, he leaned forward just slightly and touched her hand under the table, feeling her tense briefly before relaxing and continuing her conversation without even missing a beat. He felt warm and comfortable, with smoke trailing from his nose and alcohol settled in his belly.

“I suppose I’ll leave you lovebirds be,” Daisy said, giving Hancock a knowing smile and standing up. “Stop on over before you leave town, hon. I’d hate to see ya go.”

“Sure thing, Daisy,” Henrietta smiled again. Hancock gave her hand a light squeeze, feeling affectionate.

The two watched the bustling bar for a while before she leaned into him a little more, and sighed slowly, taking a long drink of the whiskey she’d barely touched. Magnolia’s singing was merely white noise, the two too deep in each other’s comfort to even bother paying attention to it. However, Henrietta seemed slightly tense, and frowned just slightly, eyes drifting through the crowd several times, as if she were looking for something.

“What’s up, pumpkin?” Hancock kept his mouth from moving too much, murmuring just next to her ear. She was obviously trying not to act like she’d caught onto something.

“Three men I haven’t seen before,” She murmured back, turning her head to make it seem like they were just kissing. “Fedoras. Striped suits.”

“Triggermen.”

Henrietta nodded and scowled, hoping they weren’t here for anything specific and just happened to want to relax like the rest of the drifters. However, when she finally did catch one’s eye, the sharply-dressed man stood up and pointed at her, shouting something unintelligible as a fist suddenly flew at her head.

Flinching back from the sudden suckerpunch, Henrietta immediately turned and blocked a second attempt, snarling and pushing Hancock out of harm’s way as she grappled with the man. A sharp elbow connected with her side and knocked the breath out of her, before a fist connected with her face, blood spurting from her nose and down across her lips. Connecting her palm with the man’s nose, she effectively took him out, turning and shouting in rage as another Triggerman lunged at her and kneeing him in the gut. By the time Ham had gotten downstairs and everyone had finally calmed down and recognized what was happening, Henrietta had managed to incapacitate the two other men and stood beside them, breathing hard. It had happened so fast that Hancock had barely had time to react.

Hurrying to her side as Ham and a few others, including MacCready, quickly cleaned up the mess, he reached out to wipe her nose, hesitating when she waved his hand away and plopped down on the couch, taking another long drink of whiskey and pressing the cold bottle to her cheek. The ghoul frowned, but didn’t press, sitting down across from her and waiting to see if she would say anything.

“Well, that certainly added some excitement to my night,” She said dully, and sunk into the couch. “Not exactly the kind I wanted.”

He let out a small huff of a laugh and leaned forward again, smudging the blood from her face with the sleeve of his coat. Not like it would show up on it anyway. “What excitement did you originally have in mind?”

“I feel like you already know the answer to that question,” She answered, and met his eye for a brief second before tugging an old dishrag out of her pocket and dabbing at her bleeding nose. “You’ll have to be gentle with me, I’m afraid.”

“I’m more concerned with you bein’ gentle with me,” He laughed, and finished off his cigarette. “You sure you wanna get into that after a brawl, though? I know you’re tough, but that isn’t exactly a post-fistfight kind of activity.”

Henrietta raised an eyebrow but said nothing, opting to instead finish the bottle of whiskey and brush her hands on her pants. “You know we’ve done it after worse situations. I remember a particularly heavy night involving plenty of booze and an old pre-war dress, right after clearing out some ghouls…”

“Hey, that wasn’t my idea neither.” He leaned back against the couch again and settled one foot on his knee. “You know I’d do anythin’ you asked me to, babe.”

“I know you would.” Something in her voice was dark, like honey, like the alcohol they were sharing and the color of her eyes. It made his skin crawl. Crossing her legs, she went quiet again for a while, just sipping her drink and keeping her eyes on him like she dared him to do something, even with all these people in the room. Right after she’d fought, with her face still a mess and her hands red and raw from the hits, with her ribs probably bruised to hell. The fact that she was so tough, even for a pre-war girl, always amazed him, among other things. She could take a hit from a nuke and probably be alright in the end.

Licking his lips, he stood up and finished off his drink, strolling upstairs and watching her eyes follow him. He did have something to take care of, but he knew eventually she would have him somewhere, close and comfy in some corner of the Rexford.

Hancock checked in with the watch, made sure everything was set for the night and defenses were as tight as usual, when he noticed her lurking around the outside of the Statehouse. Is that where she wanted to do things? That honestly interested him far more than the Rexford. It was definitely no secret that they were together, and they’d been caught by guards and various people more than once in the middle of things, but they’d never done it there before. He finished up his business and trailed behind her as she entered, watching her ass as she walked up the stairs and taking his sweet time following her up.

Fahrenheit had already gone home for the night, and the two guards downstairs were idling about, chatting and not really paying any mind when their mayor shut the double doors to his office and locked it behind him.

Henrietta had seated herself on the comfier of the two couches, blood starting to trickle faintly down her lip again as she leaned her head back to relax. Walking toward her slowly, almost deliberately taking his sweet time, he leaned forward and smudged the blood off her skin with his thumb, licking it away and settling his knee on the couch as he hovered over her.

“Y’look good banged up,” He commented. “Really brings out your eyes.”

Rolling her eyes, Henrietta suddenly had his knife in her hands, eyeing the blade with interest. “You know me,” She mumbled. “Trouble has no issue finding me.”

“Whatcha gonna do with that, huh?” He made a grab for the knife, but she pulled it away, out of reach. “S’ dangerous for a woman to be holdin’ a knife like that. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself—“

Without a second thought, Henrietta pressed the flat of the blade to his neck, but did not apply pressure. He stiffened, then swallowed thickly, a rush of heat and adrenaline coursing through his veins. She wasn’t going to hurt him, he already knew that, but the fact she had him in this position anyway was riling him up fast. Henrietta slid the blunt side across his neck and down to his shirt, loosening the buttons and being careful not to slice them in the process.

Quickly, Hancock grabbed her wrist and pried the knife from her hand, his mouth crushing into hers and his other hand curling into her hair. His teeth clacked against hers a few times in the midst of the kiss, and at one point he swore he heard her curse into it. More blood from her nose trickled between her lips, and he greedily licked it away, tongue sliding in her mouth just briefly before he broke away and shrugged off his coat. She pulled her shirt over her head and carefully maneuvered her bad arm out of it, and gasped sharply when he curled his hand in her hair again and yanked her head back to bite and lick at her neck.

While Henrietta was distracted by his attention to her neck, he slid his hand into her pants and popped the button open, tugging them down almost desperately and using his other hand to grope at her chest as well as he could with the two of them squashed together on the couch the way they were.

“Slow down,” She managed to breathe, making him pause and look up to watch her face carefully, but saw no sign of pain. Leaning forward, she eased him up with her and placed her hands on his, smiling wryly and shaking her head. “You are _so eager_ , John.”

“Can you blame me?” He asked sheepishly, and pressed his palm to her cheek, kissing her forehead and giving a soft chuckle when she rolled her eyes at the comment. “If you’ve changed your mind…”

“I definitely have not,” Henrietta said slyly, and stood up to shimmy off her jeans, keeping her back to him and hooking her thumbs into her underwear. Sliding them down slowly, she watched him over her shoulder, shying away when he reached out to grab her and grabbing the bottle of bourbon on the table in front of them, taking a long drink.

“C’mon, don’t tease a man like that,” He growled, and reached for her hand, deciding instead to lean up off the couch and tug her onto his lap by her thigh. She sat the bottle down and stopped his mouth before he went to kiss her again, instead settling herself right on top of the bulge in his pants and pinning his wrists above his head. His eyes narrowed to slits, and he licked his dry lips as she ground down on top of him, giving a short grunt. Removing the flag around his waist, Henrietta used it to tie his wrists together and scooted back onto his thighs, pulling his pants down enough to palm him in one hand and kiss him again. This kiss was a lot slower than the last, and he groaned into it as she toyed with him, straining his wrists against the fabric around them and feeling regret at letting her do that.

Hancock bucked up into her hand and practically whined when she shied away a bit, and leaned his head back, frustrated with her teasing. “Babe,” He grunted, and strained against his bindings again. “I wanna touch you. Please.”

“Do you?” She tapped a finger against her lips. They were slightly swollen from the first kiss. It was damn attractive. “Maybe I don’t want you to this time.”

“ _Henrietta_ ,” Hancock growled, and watched her feign innocence, tilting her head to the side and letting go of him. He felt like he was about to burst. And she was just poking and prodding because she thought it was _cute_ to tease him. Every time she did this he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to strangle her or let her keep doing it. More often than not, it ended up being the latter.

“Fine,” She sighed, and loosened the flag. “I’ll let you this time, but only because you asked nicely.”

Hancock grumbled under his breath and leaned her back against the arm of the couch, sliding two fingers along her and thumbing her clit hard. Henrietta made a short noise before he clamped his hand against her throat, kissing her several times and continuing to tease outside her entrance until he was bored with it. He started with one, despite getting rough, and pumped a few times before adding the second. He applied light pressure to her neck and kissed along the shell of her ear, murmuring things  that made her squirm and tense around his fingers. Hancock enjoyed it when she got squirmy, because it was like he’d finally found ways to break through her tough, unabashed demeanor and reduce her to a sweaty, whimpering mess.

“John,” She breathed out, and he returned his attention to her face, slowing just a bit and loosening his hand so she could speak a little easier.

“Yes, lovely?”

“ _Fuck me,_ John.” She gasped out as he hit a particularly sensitive sot. He immediately curled his fingers there and rubbed his thumb against her clit harder than before, blood rushing to his head as well as elsewhere. Right when she was trembling the most, he pulled his hand away and licked it clean, settling between her legs and pressing the tip in, grunting as he slid in slowly and let out a slow breath when he bottomed out. Henrietta curled her hands against his unbuttoned shirt, holding onto it as she adjusted, and moaned sharply when he pulled out and thrust back in quickly. Wanting to make it last, he kept his pace slow, hands holding hers, or moving to her hips; he honestly didn’t know where he wanted to put them. The cold metal of her robotic arm bit into his skin just slightly, and the feeling was strange. As he thrusted, he leaned down enough where he could kiss the spots where flesh met metal, slowing just enough to be able to let her know that he still found her as beautiful as before.

“John…” Henrietta murmured quietly, and touched his face, her good hand still clenched in his shirt.

“You’re as breathtaking as ever,” He answered softly. “Like a dream. A real good dream.”

Henrietta’s face flushed just slightly, and then more when he grabbed her throat again and thrusted into her hard. He bent her thighs back to get deeper, snapping his hips forward in a much faster pace than before and grunting out her name whenever she made those sweet little noises. Hancock kept going until he could feel himself getting close, and hugged her close, bucking into her and kissing her and losing himself in her until he finally released. Panting, she threw her metal arm across her face and tried to catch her breath, hair sticking to her forehead and marks all across her neck. He stayed where he was for a bit, trailing small kisses along the palm of her good hand and gently inspecting the growing bruise on her side where she had been kneed earlier.

“I love you,” She murmured against the metal of her arm, and accepted the water he urged her to sip at, chugging half of it before offering him the rest. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Hancock said softly, and curled up on the couch with her, tugging his coat over them both.

 

 


End file.
